Two writers for the price of one blog

Erotica’s Future

Erotica’s Future

What inspires this post are two others, one by Remittance Girl: The Flesh Web, and the third by Malin James, The Mourning Sun. Any of you reading me over the years know that I’ve questioned why I write erotica. I want my writing to matter and I’ve struggled deciding how it should matter. Can erotica be literature? Can it be more than textual pornography? Can it have lasting value? Can it communicate more than just titillation? The questions, I think, are beautifully answered in these two posts.

RG’s The Flesh Web is a short post, almost a prose poem. She begins: “It’s just sex, I tell myself.” The first sentence is like a good guitar hook. We know, just in that first sentence, that it’s not just sex. Its much more than that; and that makes us want to keep reading. That’s the way a good writer hooks her reader. Next she’ll write: “Just nature doing what it must, working its fossil finger between the tight layers of accreted me and crooking a digit at him. ”

Now that’s some fine imagery. The “fossil finger” implies an instinct as old our genetic material, as irresistible and as inevitable. And what does she mean by “accreted me”? Layers of emotion?—civilization?—culture? But it’s masterful imagery. The fossil is created in layers. Its this association that leads to “the tight layers of accreted me”, but not so tight, or fossilized, that the far more ancient pull of accreted nature can’t work its fossil finger between.

And then the questions:

“So, why the excess? Why the twinge of the heart? Why the sense of brimming? Why does the back of his neck make me cry? Why do I feel a foot taller and so much more worthy of walking this earth when I curl my hand around his cock and feel it already hard, already the underskin of veins ripple across my fingertips.”

It’s here, I think, that erotica becomes literature—when it speaks to our common experience, our shared humanity; when, as in all great literature, we recognize ourselves and maybe comprehend ourselves anew. This, to me, is when writing becomes literature. Erotica speaks to our shared erotic experience; and for this reason not only do we recognize our shared erotic experience, but we’re aroused by it. That’s what the best erotica does and that’s why it’s considered subversive. Erotic awareness, contemplation and spiritual truth aren’t meant to go together (the pleasures of the flesh and of the spirit are considered opposites) but in Remittance Girl’s story they do; and they should in all the best erotic stories.

After this, RG returns to the central imagery of the story—a kind of leitmotif. She writes: “Here, beneath this teetering pile of meaning…” And there again, the idea of layers and of accretions reappears, but teetering now. The most solid and enduring image remains the fossil, the drive for sex and reproduction. Even love, in the final line, is reduced to a mere cloak—a veneer. This is masterful writing and this is erotica made literature.

Malin James’s story begins similarly, with a sentence that suggests imminent death.

His heart beats so hard she’s afraid it will shatter.

It’s a beautiful, sharp, cry of anguish and the rest of the story is a mediation on that cry. She’ll write:

She wants to reach in and cradle his heart. She wants hold it in her hands and hide it from the day that he will leave.

Love and the knowing loss of it are central to our shared humanity. But so far, this isn’t different from any work of fiction. But after a little background, some description, time and place, the reader enters the realm of erotic literature:

She sits up and unbuckles his belt. Her hands are nimble and quiet, as if she’s trying to wake him up without disturbing his sleep. He opens his eyes and smiles, sweet like a boy. It makes her ache in places she can’t name. The ache spreads through her. It passes through nerve and tissue and bone until she becomes that ache; the aching, inevitable loss of him, anticipatory and sharp.

This isn’t just sex. James communicates a whole panoply of emotions. Her hands are “nimble and quiet”. She doesn’t want to startle him. Is she worried about his heart? He looks a boy. Is that a wish? Does she want to make him young again? Strong? Eternally youthful? And then the ache, that’s both for his youth and knowledge that he’ll never have it back and even what little is left slips away. All this is communicated in how she touches him, how she perceives him as a boy, and the spreading ache that is both agonizing and an erotic need.

And that’s what separates erotica from erotic literature. There are so many different kinds of arousal. There are so any different ways to experience sex. Nature has made our minds our sexual organ. We color sex with metaphor and meaning. Sex is never just procreation. We create ourselves in sex as in everything we do. That erotica that rises to the level of literature gives us a window into this miracle of our sexuality. Our lovemaking is not just a singular moment but an articulation of the or days that have come before and our desires for the days to follow. It’s this understanding that Malin James captures in her story. And in understanding it, we share the arousal, the erotic desire. We’ve had that experience. It’s an erotic literature that speaks to our shared humanity and acts as a sort of catharsis. It does what all great literature does.

The sex that follows remains grounded in the first cry—the heart that will shatter. “His levis are ancient.” We’re reminded of his age. She tosses aside her dress with “unnecessary force”. Why? Because, impossibly, she wants every barrier gone. This is a desperate kind of sex. She straddles him and sinks down without play or pretense. And then the image that is as movingly powerful as any in any great poem:

“Her cunt is wet with the tears she knows she will cry. “

Such an image as only erotic literature is (and must be) capable of. This is the justification for every erotic story we struggle to write—this beautiful image.

Erotic literature is a flower in humanity’s collective imagination. It begins to grow, is recognized, and is destroyed. How many works have been lost? But maybe, for the first time, this flower in our literary garden will finally be allowed to blossom. Such stories as those by Remittance Girl and Malin James begin to show us just how beautiful it could be.

Will Crimson | September 9 2015

Share this:

Like this:

Related

Latest Comments

Well said Will: meaning is to be found in the layers and threads interwoven.
In bringing together ‘the pleasures of the flesh and of the spirit’ enchantment occurs.
Malin and RG are mistresses of their craft, showing us what can be achieved in delving beneath.

Will, you’ve done well with this. Thank you. Can’t we lead the readers and the book world as a whole by asserting that this is literature? Then prove this assertion in a public forum using a rhubric as you have done?

Thanks Eugene. I’m making the argument. But it’s not enough to make the argument; the proof is in the doing. We have to prove that erotica can be literature by writing erotic literature, then the readers and book world will follow. I’m not sure if I’ve succeeded or ever will, but I see how it can be; and really the rules aren’t any different for erotica than for any other genre. Write well. Write beautifully. Connect your erotica to the human condition — not people having sex, but sex that explains people.

Second, following the success of Fifty Shades and its copycats, I think there is a real gap between reader expectation of erotica and the kind of work you are discussing here. I swing from feeling this is a disaster to believing this is a good thing that will engender an evolution of the genre. But, as you say, good writing is good writing in any genre and the distinction between artfully written genre fiction and literary fiction is an artificial one. Character-driven literary fiction, where the characters have an erotic life SHOULD, it it is relevant and the writer is as skilled as his or her ‘literary status’ infers they are, include an in-depth, contextual and nuanced account of their eroticism informs the holistic character. In a way, it is only because of fairly recent critical stances (a resistance to the premise that sex plays an integral part of our lives or a determination to ‘cut sex down to size’ after years of a perceived over-valuation of it) that literary fiction has dealt with sex in the depressing, uninteresting or alienating ways.

Approaches writing ‘literately’ about sex swings between a persistently Victorian view that it is so dangerously influential that ‘moral’ literature should downplay it for socially responsible reasons, and a post-modern view that it is, perhaps like spirituality, an embarrassingly deluded fixation to afford sex vastly more meaning that any biological function deserves. From what I can tell, both approaches dominate the way eroticism is written about in literary fiction. The possibility that the inner erotic life of a character might play important and insightful parts in the trajectory of their lives is, with the exception of some notable gay and lesbian literary fiction, discomforting to the literati.

//I think there is a real gap between reader expectation of erotica and the kind of work you are discussing here…//

Yes, and that’s true of every creative genre — now and historically.

However, writing beautifully, powerfully, and writing to be popular aren’t mutually exclusive. What FSOG gave readers was a story with an Erotic/Romantic beginning and end. We all know it’s limitations. However, I think FSOG could have been just as successful if written by an author of your caliber. Readers just want a good story.

How I look at it: FSOG opened a door that any of us could open wider.

Incidentally, everyone seems to forget Anne Rice’s Beauty Trilogy. Just this year she released a fourth book in the series (which readers haven’t been reviewing favorably). She’s a wonderful writer though. Also, I recall reading that her Beauty Trilogy has, surprisingly, produced more income, in terms of book sales, than her Vampire series!

And I don’t know how much attention to pay to the literati — actual readers of erotica probably pay no attention to them at all.

Erotica has been literature before, and since Anais Nin and Henry Miller expressed their attitudes towards the connection between art and life. Sensing the senseless accusations of moralists, Miller defends the high literary merit of his work, drawing on the fullest measure of courage, and a sense of FREEDOM. He states, “I never found (in the works of the masters) excuses or apologies for curtailment of freedom in the expression of art”. Might I add, that seen as an art, we are free to express ourselves without apology?

Hi Suzi. Thanks so much for stopping by. :-) I read your comment at RG’s (Jouissance Précoce) and wanted to ask you so many questions. I’m a longtime reader of Nin and Miller. I read them both when I was a college student (and not because they were assigned). I’ve always pursued erotic literature. Wasn’t familiar with Miller’s quote. I like that; and true. And yes, seen as art, we must be free to express ourselves. More on that soon. I’m writing a post just on that subject. Is your blog new?

Hi Will. I am also an erotic writer, but can’t for the life of me figure out how to set up my blog on wordpress…might you suggest a space that is already created? I would love to join yours or another group. thanks! suzi

Hi Suzi, I would love to share the blog with another active writer. Can you send me a story? If you have art, you’re welcome to send that too. You can find my email address under the About Us/Contact page.

Hello Will,Â I am thrilled to hear from you regarding Miller and Nin. They found their opportunities for eroticaÂ outside our stilted country of course,Â a freedom that must have been exquisitely liberating!Â I suggest youÂ pick up “Henry Miller on Writing”Â published by the Henry Miller literaryÂ Society, a brilliant collection with private notations… I need help with my blog…so many good ideas and as an artist many sensual drawings from life that I want to post. It is wordpress that is the problem…can’t understand it, and then I give up.Â Â Might you suggest a way I can join a group of erotic writers with the allowance of my art? I have many stories, and am brimming over, craving to publish them. Working on a novel now.Â Just want to get my stories out there for enjoyment of all. Here’s one of my drawings, attached… Â Â From: The Erotic Writer To: suzistudio@yahoo.com Sent: Tuesday, September 15, 2015 6:30 PM Subject: [New comment] Erotica’s Future #yiv4343008493 a:hover {color:red;}#yiv4343008493 a {text-decoration:none;color:#0088cc;}#yiv4343008493 a.yiv4343008493primaryactionlink:link, #yiv4343008493 a.yiv4343008493primaryactionlink:visited {background-color:#2585B2;color:#fff;}#yiv4343008493 a.yiv4343008493primaryactionlink:hover, #yiv4343008493 a.yiv4343008493primaryactionlink:active {background-color:#11729E;color:#fff;}#yiv4343008493 WordPress.com willcrimson commented: “Hi Suzi. Thanks so much for stopping by. :-) I read your comment at RG’s (Jouissance PreÌcoce) and wanted to ask you so many questions. I’m a longtime reader of Nin and Miller. I read them both when I was a college student (and not because they were assi” | |

More from Discussion

Most of the publishers I’m familiar with, because of pressure from credit card companies, paypal, etc… won’t touch an erotic story if the “characters” are less than 18—called underage sexual content. Apparently nobody told them what the title of Nabokov’s Lolita means; and, yes, there’s sex in it. But that’s a literary masterpiece. How about Anne… Continue Reading

~ The Erotic Writer’s Dilemma ~ • I remember reading the essay of an African American woman filming bondage. Given the history of race in America, she considered not doing the scene; but her answer was to do it and by doing it declare ownership of her sexuality, of bondage – its symbolism – and… Continue Reading

An editorial for the end of the year. This is in part a reaction to an article by Lisabet Sarai on the Erotic Readers & Writers Association Blog (which was in turn in part a response to Remittance Girl’s post there earlier this month. Both are worth reading and thinking about, but what motivated me to… Continue Reading